Transient, Yet Everlasting
by FakeFairy
Summary: He's a supernova, a beautiful explosion of radiant colors that burst into her life by surprise. He's a firework, transient & fleeting, but he left an impression that'd stain her mind for years to come, if not forevermore. He's someone she should've never fallen for, for she feared she'd lose him in a second, but he had taught her that there was beauty in the fleeting.


Firstly, I hope you don't mind my fake university lol. Originally I had chosen one, but then I was like "naaaaaaaaah."

ANYWAYS.

I started shipping DeiHina recently and I've fallen head over heels with this pairing. I love crack pairings so, so, so much. Crack pairings are my lifeblood. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this! I've been excited to start working on this! I also hope you come to enjoy this pairing as much as I do!

Also, if you haven't picked up on it, this is a modern au take! They MIGHT have been able to work in the canonical universe if circumstances were different (or if I were creative enough to find a way that someone hasn't already done, and I read a good fanfic where someone has made it work really well in the canon world) but ahhh. I also like modern au relationships a lot. I just love aus. Aus are also my life blood.

also, as a modern au she clearly doesn't have the Byakugan, and I was debating whether or not to make her have brown eyes like I did in my modern au SasuHina story, but I decided that she'd just have eyes with visible pupils.

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><p>Full description: "He was a supernova, a beautiful explosion of radiant colors that burst into her life by surprise. He was a firework, transient and fleeting, but he left an impression that would stain her mind for years to come, if not forevermore. He was someone she should've never fallen for, for she feared she would lose him in a second, but he had taught her that there was beauty in the fleeting, and that that beauty should be cherished in the moment and remembered for centuries."<p>

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><p>Steam from her hot mug of coffee wafted upward and swirled around until it dissipated into nonexistence, and the intoxicating aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air and her nostrils as she inhaled deeply. It was early in the morning and there was an unusual chill in Kyoto for September, or maybe it was only <em>her <em>who found it to be unusual - she always did get cold easily.

The mug warmed her cold hands, and she took another sip of her drink, the sweet liquid rushing down her throat. Warmth spread throughout her body and a contented smile coated her plump lips. Today would be her first day attending university, and she still felt the triumph bubbling within her heart of having convinced her father to let her attend art school with the condition that she would spend extra hours with private tutors in learning about law and business, and a few hours more a week with her martial arts training.

There was also the condition that she would attend any and every social gathering, something she had qualms over agreeing with considering she would be a full-time university student and gala events and the like often lasted from early evening to midnight, or longer. Still, with a heavy heart, she had agreed to her father's terms; it was for the sake of attending the school of her dreams, and perhaps help to make a small career in art.

Art was one of her many passions. It was soothing and beautiful. When she wanted to run away from the world and escape from her problems for even for a fraction of a second, she would press flowers, or she would sketch something out. She would paint on a canvas with oils and pastels, or she would paint in her sketchbook with bright water color paints. She would go outside and draw murals on the large driveway with chalk and watch as her masterpieces got hosed down or rained on.

Art was a passion and an escape, and anything to do with it, she enjoyed. There was beauty and there was peace. In art was a world of its own, a world in which she could completely lose herself in, a place where she could immerse herself within everything she loved.

Attending Kyoto Konoha University was a dream come true, and it was almost surreal that today would be her first day. She had even procured her own apartment to use as an art studio; she would still be living at home, but she found that she didn't mind. Home was home, and it was hard to leave. Still, she was grateful for her freedom.

The atmosphere in the Hyūga household could be suffocating at times with the pressures of being the heiress to her father's enormous law corporation and the management of the many dojos they owned in Kyoto alone. Fancy dinner parties, social outings and having to smile prettily beneath the face of the lights, cameras, and crowds - such was the life for the social elites.

Now, she could break away from that, if only by a little bit, but it was something she appreciated and looked forward to all the same.

Hinata's cup of coffee was quickly downed, and the mug was scrubbed and rinsed, and neatly placed in the dryer resting on the counter top. She closed its lid, pressing a button to set it to dry. A quick frown was tossed at it, though. She thought it would be more convenient to have American appliances. Their dishwashers washed _and _dried, and dishes would need minimal scrubbing by hand to get them clean. They held more dishes, and dishes wouldn't have had to be done so frequently; it would have been especially helpful when they had guests over. She wouldn't have minded a larger and double-doored fridge with either one side as the freezer, or a bottom drawer freezer; American fridges had water and ice dispensers, too. Going out to buy bags of ice, or making cubes of her own, was time consuming.

She shook her head and mentally chastised herself for allowing herself to get off track over _kitchen appliances_; there were more important matters at hand, such as heading off for university and getting there promptly.

Her things were soon in hand and she ran out of the mansion and towards the sleek black car waiting for her outside of the garage. The chauffeur stood outside of the car, opening the back door as soon as she came racing out of the house.

Hinata tossed him a smile and dipped her head into a small, respectful bow. "Thank you, Kōjiro-san," she said as she stepped into the car.

"It isn't a problem, Hinata-sama. Kyoto Konoha University, yes?"

"-mm, that's correct!"

The door was closed and she set her things beside her, fastening her seatbelt. The car began to roll down the slope of the long driveway and onto the asphalt road. Soft music played in the background - it sounded like something classical, and the harmony of the symphonic piece helped to soothe her nerves. Her heart wasn't exactly racing, but it beat and thumped at an above average rate. Eyelids closed and the heiress took a deep breath. She breathed in deeply and let out the pent up air.

She was a Hyūga, and as a Hyūga, she would be fine.

_"Have confidence," _she reminded herself. _"You'll be fine."_

Pearlescent hues peered outside of the window, watching the sights as they raced by in a blur. There was no sunshine today. The sun was obscured by a blanket of light gray clouds with dark patches here and there that seemed to promise brief and gentle rain showers throughout the day. She thought that the rain was beautiful, and she thought that the word was beautiful as it soaked in and held the fresh droplets of water. She thought that the flowers and foliage were beautiful as beads of water rested upon petals and leaves, leaving the flora and plants to glisten and glimmer from the sparkling dew, a form of art in its own right. Hinata was someone who could find beauty in almost anything, and she was someone who could appreciate art in its many forms.

The car pulled up to the university campus, and Hinata bid Kōjiro farewell as she climbed out of the car. She left as she offered one little wave, and the car drove off to return to her home. It was as she turned that she began to take in the university's sights, first from all of the plants and flowers spread across the property, and then the building. Her mouth parted ever so slightly in awe, and a fascinated glimmer shone in pale lilac irises. She had seen pictures of the school, and she had toured a small portion of the campus, thanks to her father's influence, months before, but today it seemed even more wonderful than it had before.

She was ready. She had completed all of her summer assignments, having gathered the little art portfolio for one of her core art courses, and other assignments for the required regular education classes were ready to be turned in as soon as she entered the classroom or lecture hall.

Hinata couldn't wait for her life as a university student to truly begin.

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><p>And for Deidara, his junior year of university was just about to begin. As much as he loved art, as much as he loved creating something beautiful in order to destroy to create something even <em>more <em>beautiful for the sake of his classes (and his own enjoyment, mind you), sometimes college was a pain in the ass. There weren't only art classes, and that was the pain of it.

On top of the art history papers and art theory papers he would have to write, there were the wheelbarrow loads of assignments that he received from the others. There weren't many classes, no, but it was a lot of time consuming and tedious work that just ate up his time, and that was time he would much rather spend towards making sculptures into homemade fireworks to light up the night sky.

Going to bed the night before was a _pain. _

Waking up early to shower (because he had _forgotten _to the night before) was a pain.

Simply having to wake up was a pain.

Getting all of his things together and ready to go was a pain.

It was the same routine as always, but it was always difficult after returning from a nice summer break. He would miss it, and it was a break that would be well cherished.

Some days, he didn't know why he tried so hard, but then again, he was never a quitter. Once he started something, there was no going back. There were some who might call him reckless in his ways with some of his life choices, but he would only say that he lived life with passion. Deidara loved life - he loved being alive. There were things in the world that he wasn't fond of, but art and simply _living _and feeling the warm rays of sunlight bleeding into his skin made it worthwhile.

He wasn't overly privileged. He hadn't been born into the high life. He wasn't going to take life for granted like some others did, and that was why he lived so passionately.

He was a fuse to a bomb lit aflame and he would live life like a star until he became a supernova that went out with an unforgettable bang.

He knew no other way how to live.

His apartment complex wasn't far from the university, but not close enough to walk. His apartment was on the top floor of the building, and so with his belongings and necessary materials gathered (namely a sculpture that had been his _summer project_ that was also a pain in the ass to carry), the blond trudged down the stairwells, heaving a sigh of exasperation as he finally made it to the ground floor. There were some days he wished he had chosen a complex whose buildings was a _singular _building with elevators instead for convenience's sake, but there were the little things that he liked about where he lived, ultimately leading him to pick _here._ There were the flaws, of course, but otherwise...he thought it was perfect.

Deidara took the city bus, waiting in the chilly autumn morning for only five minutes before its arrival. It was relatively early, but the bus was not empty. There were high school students, other university students, people on their way to work, those who had a destination elsewhere, and some who simply rode to ride.

It was silent, save for the faint sound of music playing through someone's earbuds, but again, it was faint - very faint, almost inaudible over the bus's tires rolling over the asphalt, almost inaudible over the city noise, but he could hear it.

Fifteen minutes passed and the bus halted at his stop. A quiet swear slipped past his lips as he struggled to stand, and as the sculpture nearly slipped from his grip. Perhaps he should invest in a _book_ bag - this wouldn't have been an issue for him. He grunted as he stepped off from the bus. It hissed as its doors closed and it began to pull away. With a huff, he began to walk as swiftly as possibly towards university doors (and as fast as he could _manage _with a relatively large sculpture enveloped in his arms). He wasn't necessarily worried about being _late _to class, because quite honestly it wouldn't have been the first time either, but the blond was eager to show off his masterpiece. Beautifully and masterfully crafted with nimble hands of a true artist, but _yet,_ he felt that it was **lacking.**

It was a university project, and therefore he couldn't include any explosive factors to create **true **art, art that was _fleeting._ Even so, there was no doubt that he was skilled in anything he committed himself to in regards to art; he could expect high marks for the sculpture.

It was just a pity his talents were wasted on something that would sit and collect dust, something that would be left for forgotten the moment attention was shifted elsewhere. Art was not everlasting, and it wasn't meant to be. There was no such thing as _everlasting _art. Art could remain in physical form, and perhaps if it had a name, there would be those who remembered the name, but how often would it be that they were able to recall the fine details within the art? There was no sempiternity in art - art was akin to a human life.

Once a lifespan came to an end, people would gather in remembrance. They could share fond memories, because a human life was fleeting, once there and gone in a flash. No one knew when a life would end, and so every moment of it was cherished. Every moment was stained into their minds.

_Just _like the fleeting aspect of his own art. It would leave the masses with mouths agape and jaws hitting the ground in awe. People would argue that something that was there only briefly wouldn't have the chance to be remembered, but that was exactly why it _would _be remembered.

His talents were being wasted in the creation of this art. It would not be remembered because of the fact that it would placed on display. People would not remember it because they would know in their minds that they could go back to see it again. In knowing that one will never see something again, a person would do their damnedest to grasp every millisecond, consuming it hungrily and impressing the memories into their minds to remain forevermore.

_That _was the true meaning of art.

_That _was the kind of reaction he was seeking.

One day, just _one day, _there would come a time that someone could appreciate art in the same way that he did.

There was beauty in transience, and its beauty should be appreciated.


End file.
